


Too Much to Ask

by dreamiflame



Category: Gladiator (2000)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-04
Updated: 2003-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamiflame/pseuds/dreamiflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commodus doesn't understand, and no one will explain it to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Much to Ask

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Он хотел слишком многого](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468087) by [Regis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regis/pseuds/Regis)



> Thank you to canadabear for the title help and the beta, and also to Sara, and Miss Joanne for the betas as well. Any remaining tense confusion is strictly my fault.

Commodus doesn't understand, not really, he's never been able to understand, and he hates that no one ever bothered to explain. And seeing Maximus again, with his father, breaks something inside of him. Commodus tries to ignore the other man, but is thwarted by his father, so he moves to Maximus, and kisses the air by his face on both sides, trying to ignore the way his stomach jumps when he draws in the other man's scent, feels his muscles move under his skin. He listened to what the general says and tries to ignore the way Maximus' voice slides around in his head. 

'How may I be of service, Highness?' and the tone of voice is the same, the words are the same, but the look on the face is completely at odds with Commodus's memories. Why, he thinks, why, if you hate me, do you tempt me so?

He is trying, trying so hard not to hate Maximus, not to let the way he treats Commodus, with such thinly veiled contempt, hurt him. He tests the waters, mentions his sister. 'She has not forgotten you.' Nor have I, he thinks. No, I have not forgotten you, Maximus. I have not forgotten the way you used to say my name when we were together, and oh, how I long to hear it again.

And after he has made himself emperor, Commodus holds out a hand, hoping that for once, Maximus would take it, would accept him, and support him. Something inside him dies when he is spurned, and in his hurt-born fury, he orders Maximus' death, and resolves not to think of him anymore. 

It doesn't work of course, and Maximus, the Maximus he loved before the legions, the Maximus who loved him, haunts his dreams. Commodus has never met Maximus' wife, but he doesn't care, and orders her killed anyways. Their son, as well, and he hopes that by destroying everything connected to Maximus except his sister he can purge the feelings he still holds for the Spainard.

To find Maximus before, alive, unharmed, still defiant and now murderous, months after he had been told the Spaniard was dead is a crushing blow. Commodus's head aches constantly, and he feels the deceit enveloping him. All he wants is love, to love the people and be loved in return, but no one loves him, not even Lucilla. Not the right way. Thoughts buzz around in his skull and hurt him, stinging with vicious accuracy. Why don't they love him? Why?

Maximus just won't die, no matter what Commodus does, and it frustrates him even more. Lucilla is pushing him away, and he can feel everything he's gained, everything he had, slipping through his fingers. He losing it all, the respect, the love, his empire, his sister, his mind. All he wants now is to kill Maximus and have things go back to the way they were. But Lucilla betrays him, and Maximus defies him, and it's all impossible. The sun shines brightly into his eyes and he hears the voice say, 'It's done.' He doubts it. It'll never be done the right way now, he thinks, and closes his eyes against the light.

He isn't finished, and Commodus wills himself strength, and finds that for the first time he hates Lucilla. Hates her for forcing him into this, for making him behave in this manner to her. He only wanted to love her, but now he must hurt her, force her into something she doesn't want. His eyes sting, and he breathes, then goes on with must be done. Threats against Lucilla, against Lucius, and she cries, breaking his heart, and refusing his kiss, which makes him angry again. 'Am I not merciful?!' he yells, and she takes a shuddering breath, and nods. It isn't enough, but it'll do, for now.

It's dark and cold beneath the stadium, cold as his blood feels. He is angry, yes, but it all feels so cold, so far away. Commodus forces himself to concentrate, to speak words that are to hurt Maximus, but he isn't, Maximus isn't hurt. But he's in control now, nothing can go wrong, and Commodus feels a twisted sort of joy as the blade slides home in Maximus's back. 'Smile for me now, brother,' oh yes. Smile for me, Maximus.

Rose petals like soft rain against his face as they rise through the ground, and Commodus finds it fitting. He is rising out of the grave they all tried to put him in, and he will be victorious. The sound of the crowd is sweet to his ears, and he doesn't even worry about the swordplay. Maximus is wounded, already stumbling. This is something he will finally best the Spaniard at.

And then, just like everything else ever connected with Maximus, something goes wrong. Maximus fights, wounded, bleeding where the crowd cannot see, he fights, and Commodus is not as good as he is. A brief moment of panic, fury when no one gives him a sword, and Commodus falls back on his last plan. Let someone else feel the pricking in them that he has suffered all this time.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way, he thinks, as Maximus wrests the knife away and turns it on him. He feels his blood flowing out and- It wasn't supposed to be like this at all. You were supposed to love me, you and Lucilla. Love me... -and then there is only darkness, and Commodus is utterly alone.


End file.
